


The Lure of Spanish Music

by HeartofCanada (Tassledown), Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Guns, Human Names Used, M/M, Mafia Romano, Music, Romano's filthy mouth, Teasing, food talk, tango dancing, with random murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/HeartofCanada, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antonio goes over to Lovino's house for dinner, and walks in on the middle of Lovino during a not-government-related work call. He winds up in control of Lovino's iPod while the other cooks dinner and tries to wind down. Antonio makes the most of this, and picks something he's sure will help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lure of Spanish Music

Antonio let himself into Lovino's Naples' home with his key and quietly shut the door behind himself. To his surprise, the kitchen was cold, the downstairs quiet, but there was a soft strain of music from upstairs. He put down his contributions for dinner and took his overnight bag upstairs to find the source of the music.

It became clear it was some classical music, one Antonio wasn't familiar with offhand, and it was covering up a rather heated conversation. Antonio walked to the far end of the hallway, to a balcony where he could see Lovino, one foot braced on his chair, sighting down a rifle as he spoke on the phone. Behind him was his iPod tucked onto a set of speakers playing the classical music. 

Antonio sat down nearby.

“Yeah, I know you just wanted to check in with me. It's very professional of you. I told you I'd tell you how to get to my house, yeah?” Lovino was saying. “So you're parked in the right spot, just turn and start walking up the street. I think you have a very good idea, we definitely need to talk...”

Antonio smiled and leaned one arm on the table. Lovino made a positive noise again and slid his finger onto the trigger. A moment later, he fired, then checked down the scope again and hung up, dialling another number and handing Antonio his gun. Antonio took the rifle and set it down by his bag. 

“Ciao, sir,” Lovino said brightly. “There's been a shooting by my house. Make sure you're the first to arrive.” He hung up immediately after and turned a tense smile to Antonio. “Hey, sorry about that, I meant to get started on dinner hours ago but this bozo starts trying to talk me into going up against Milan!” Lovino threw his hands in the air and picked up the rifle again. “As if I'd fucking mess with Lombardy's territory! Some fucking asshole he is, has no brains and now we won't have any fucking decent dinner!”

“I'm fine waiting for dinner, Lovino, really!” Antonio kissed him on the cheek and shut down and picked up the stereo and iPod for him. “Let's go get started?”

“Thanks.” Lovino kissed him on the lips. “I need to clean the gun too,” he said mournfully. “That'll take even longer.”

“Would you rather I clean the gun for you or cook?”

“You're not touching my damn kitchen, you tomato bastard!”

“And not your gun either?”

“It'll live til I get the food done.” He grumbled. He stalked down the stairs and dumped the rifle on the table. He snatched up the bags of food Antonio had brought him and started in the kitchen. 

Antonio sat down the speakers and plugged them back in. He scrolled through Lovino's music on his iPod and selected something he knew would help Lovino relax. Flamenco music started to play and when Antonio turned around, Lovino's face was turning red already.

“You fucking bastard,” he growled. “I'm cooking.”

“It's okay Lovino, it'll still be playing when you're done.”

“I hate you!” Lovino cried. His hands were steady dicing tomatoes and his hips were starting to sway with the music. “I don't want you to be teasing me the whole time I'm trying to cook.”

“But I'm not touching you!” Antonio hopped up onto the table beside the stereo and turned the music up. “I'm sitting over here, doing nothing. See?”

“You're a horrible bastard. You know exactly what you're doing.”

“Do you want me to stop what I'm doing?” Antonio asked sweetly.

“No!” Lovino cursed and started muttering in Latin. “You're a stupid overgrown colony of Rome with too much Arab flavour, that's all.”

“Aww, thank you!” Antonio chirped. “So what are you making?”

Lovino was too embarrassed to answer. He began to toss the vegetables and quickly rummaged through his fridge, fishing things out of Antonio's bags seemingly without looking, but Antonio knew he'd already glanced them over and memorized the contents. He watched Lovino work without comment, enjoying the sight of his lover in the kitchen, competently handling the food he'd been complaining about having no idea what to do with only ten minutes ago. 

The flamenco went into a seguidillo tune and Antonio sat up more straight and it was his turn to blush. Lovino looked his way before he could say anything and laughed.

“Hah, yes. You didn't think I'd put that on there?”

“I didn't know you'd recorded me playing it!”

“What did you think I was doing, asking you to play it for me over and over?”

“I thought you were trying to wind down to sleep! It sounds terrible!” It didn't sound terrible at all, which was almost worse, because Antonio could hear in the background his own voice softly singing something – not an actual tune, not a song, not really, just something to try and relax Lovino.

“Your face is so red right now, that's almost worth it.”

“You do realize you have tango music on here somewhere?” Antonio grumbled.

“Shut up,” Lovino grumbled. “We're not dancing that til after we eat.”

“Are we not?” Antonio grinned. He hopped off the table and started to hum, relaxing his body as he listened to himself play, wishing idly he'd thought to bring his instruments – whatever one – along with him. 

“No, we are not.” Lovino said firmly. 

Antonio glanced at him and smirked, rolling his hips.

“Horny bastard,” Lovino added.

“Mhmm!” Antonio agreed. “This isn't sex.”

“It's always sex, dancing with you.”

“Then we had sex a lot sooner than I thought.”

“Augh!” Lovino threw a piece of onion at him, but his scream ended in something strongly resembling laughter. “You're gonna get yourself burnt food!”

“As long as you don't put too much blood into the meal, it doesn't bother me.” Antonio said. “I'm bored.”

“Of course you are,” Lovino rolled his eyes. His phone rang and he cursed. “Dammit, Antonio, can you get that? Don't be a jerk.”

Antonio halted what he was doing and stepped into the kitchen to pick the phone out of Lovino's pocket. “Ciao?” he said.

“Ah, I'm sorry, is this Mr. Vargas?”

“He is here,” Antonio said simply. “Who's calling?”

“Ah. It's...Andino. Please tell him the police will be coming tomorrow morning to ask if anyone heard the shot this afternoon. That's all.”

“Of course! Thank you!” Antonio heard the man hang up and followed suit. He slipped the phone back into Lovino's pocket and took the chance to grope him lightly as well. “Did you hear?”

“No, your music's too loud.” Lovino grumbled. “Was it Andino?”

“Yes, it was. He said the police will be asking about the shot fired tomorrow morning.”

“Good, I have the night in peace then.” Lovino nodded in satisfaction. “Shoo, you're in my way.”

“Yes, of course.” Antonio kissed his cheek and smiled as the music changed. He started to grin and clapped his hands in time with the music. “Ah, so beautiful!”

“Your alegrias?” Lovino grumbled. 

Antonio had his eyes half-shut and just nodded cheerfully, dancing to the music in the entryway. When he did glance at Lovino, he caught his lover smiling softly and staring his way. Antonio closed his eyes again and kept moving, happy he was being appreciated.

Much sooner than Lovino's dismayed complaints had suggested, dinner was on the table and Lovino tugged Antonio into the seat next to him, complaining he'd tire himself out before Lovino could appreciate his company. Antonio laughed and obliged, too happy to complain. 

As soon as the food was done, however, Antonio bounced to his feet again and turned back the music on the iPod to a set of songs he knew and liked – starting with something simple, like a corrido. Lovino rolled his eyes as soon as the upbeat music came on but stood up and hauled Antonio away from the iPod.

“Before you come up with something worse,” Lovino complained. “C'mon, I'll dance this with you.”

Antonio laughed and leaned down to kiss him before stepping back and pulling him into a little spin. Lovino went, snapped up against the front of his body and pressed his cheek to his shoulder with a grunt. 

“You're an ass. I don't wanna do something fancy after I just ate.”

“Of course not,” Antonio agreed. He moved gently with Lovino, letting him ease into the mood to dance. As Antonio knew it would, the music dragged Lovino away from simply dancing pressed up against him. He moved back, a small smile on his face and soon they were taking up most of the large archway between dining room and front entry, back and forth, hands twisting across each other until the song ended.

The first beat of the next song, a tango, introduced itself and Lovino's eyes gleamed. He stepped back from Antonio with a smirk and curled his fingers at him.

“You planned this,” Lovino said.

“I did.” Antonio smiled broadly back. “You know I did.”

He paced up to him and stroked his face. “You bastard,”

Antonio stepped around him, still at a distance until the music brought them together again. He didn't speak, didn't need to and Lovino put his body to use conveying the rest of his frustration with him, pushing and pulling until they were almost kissing and Antonio crossed the distance to touch his lips against his mouth.

“Was that all the sex you wanted tonight?” Antonio asked.

“Fuck no,” Lovino breathed. He cleared his throat and dragged him back upstairs to the master bedroom. Inside, he flicked on his stereo and picked a CD.

The tango started to play again. Antonio smirked at him and stripped out of his shirt, throwing it across the room at his face. “I see. You want to do that again?” he asked.

Lovino crawled onto the bed and licked his lips. “I want to see you do that again.”

Antonio smiled. “So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> I only superficially looked up Spanish music types for this, so my apologies if anything is wrong. The only one I'm really going to explain is that, as far as I could tell a "Seguidillo" is kind of Spanish folk music, so something I'm sure Antonio knows how to play. I did not look up if there was usually singing attached to it, so blah.  
> This is fluff. I do not break myself researching for fluff. Feel free to elaborate things in comments if you wish me to become informed.


End file.
